I suck in a ragged breath, sinking into his embrace and drowning the whole world out as Jenna helps him fit the frosty gloves, socks, and cap onto me. She explains everything she’s doing before moving on to the next step, her attentiveness showing just how fragile she realises I’ve become.
The infusion starts, and rather than shy away from the cold, physical pain, I dive into it so completely that I’m afraid I might never resurface.
CHAPTER
FORTY-SEVEN
My armsache as I clutch her to my chest, as though I’m holding her together in the literal sense.And maybe I am.
The cold cap burns through the thin cotton fabric of my shirt as she rests her cheek over my heart, but the discomfort pales in comparison to what she must be feeling.
I continue to hold her, stroking my palm down her back, soothing myself with the reminder that she’s real and she'sherein my arms. Safe.For now.
Every day, she shows me more and more of her warmth, allowing the true breadth of her empathetic heart to spill out around us. I worry that by the time I’ve gotten her home today, she’ll have shut herself off from the pain, casting me out.
I’ll be alone again, a deep, gnawing ache unable to be filled by anyone but her, chiselling pieces of my heart as I cling to her, mourning the loss of her smiles.
And that might just be worse than losing her to her illness.
CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT
The bedroom doorhad not opened in three days.
A soft retching sound echoed from behind it, followed by the hollow splash of water against porcelain. The walls, painted in gentle creams and dusty blues, absorbed the noise like an old wound. On the other side of the door, silence settled again, broken only by a faint, rhythmic whimper.
Adhira lay curled on the bathroom floor, her back pressed to the cold tiles, hair stuck to her face in limp, oily strands. Her nightshirt, creased and speckled with faint stains, clung to her thin frame. Her eyes, once soulful and bright, had grown dark, the whites shot through with red.
She didn’t move when the knock came, just a flicker of her lashes and a subtle tightening around her mouth. The tears that slid down her cheeks moved slowly, unbothered by the stillness of the face they traced.
“Adhira, please tell me you’re okay,” a voice said through the door.
A thud followed, soft but heavy. Elijah rested his head and both palms against the wood. His shoulders were tense, rising and falling in shallow waves. His jaw clenched and unclenched, lips parted as if to speak again, but no words followed. He stood that way for a long moment.
Inside, she made no reply. Her fingers found a loose thread at the hem of her sleeve, twisting it. A quiet sniffle escaped her, but she remained hunched on the floor, unmoving.
Elijah’s brow furrowed. He drew in a shaky breath. One hand left the door to wipe across his cheek. The hallway light caught the moisture on his face. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it and hesitated.
Still no sound from the room.
He looked at the door once more, then turned away. His steps were slow, his back rigid as he walked down the hallway. As he rounded the corner, his hand rose again, dragging down his face.
The door behind him remained shut. Inside, the light flickered faintly above the bathroom mirror, casting a pulsing shadow across the young woman huddled beneath it.
CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE
My palms aresweaty as I knock on Adhira’s door, waiting for a biting remark that I’ll pretend doesn’t bother me because I know, deep down, she doesn’t mean it. Instead, I’m met with the more difficult alternative.Silence.
My shoulders slump as I drop my chin to my chest, dragging in a painful breath between clenched teeth. I head out into the quiet corridor, shut the door behind me, and make my way down to the brightly lit lobby.
The reception desk is unmanned, and the semi-private seating area remains unoccupied. I check the time on my phone, hustling over to the cream-coloured leather seat in the furthest corner before plonking down and popping my earbuds in.
I busy myself with checking my texts and responding to theThigh Daddieschat.
Nakoa
